


run me like a river

by laurelsalexis



Series: Kinktober 2018 [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Choking, Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, F/M, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-25 23:30:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16207931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurelsalexis/pseuds/laurelsalexis
Summary: Robb is not supposed to work weekends.





	run me like a river

**Author's Note:**

  * For [robbsmargaery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/robbsmargaery/gifts).



> Another day, another [kinktober.](http://laurelsalexis.tumblr.com/post/178436560511/kinktober-2018)
> 
> #6 ; i went with daddy kink, which is 100% sam's fault.
> 
> Few things that stuck out in my mind while writing this: 
> 
> \- if you've ever seen gilmore girls i kind of imagine robb to be gilmore rich, but margaery is logan rich. if you haven't seen it they're both well off, but logan rich is like rich rich. took a tiny bit of inspo from them in terms of mace's view of robb.  
> \- there is some plot. tons of porn.  
> \- i can't do kinktober and robbaery week but let's just pretend this a pretty robbaery week present, yeah? i'll make a strong attempt to finish this by then since the whole one shot thing clearly didn't work out.  
> \- olenna loves robb because i said so.

Robb is not supposed to work weekends.

It’s an agreement he and Margaery come up with when they get married. _Her_ , more than him. Saturday and Sunday are the days for them to be together and not worry about anything else. It works out well until his father dies a year into their marriage and leaves the family company to him. There’s something very different about working for a company and owning it.

Different.

 _Exhausting_.

Same thing.

The compromise goes out the window fast. He tries to justify it by being in the home office versus the once in the city. As if being too busy to do anything akin to paying attention to his wife is somehow better when he is the house, versus him being away in an office building full of people. Still, he shares it with Margaery, allowing for some overlap. Usually her side of the room is empty on the weekends while he spends far too long sitting at the desk on the phone, trying not to yell at someone.

 _Trying_ , being the operative word there.

He usually fails.

Mostly because he misses his wife. It’s only been a few months since the funeral and most of the time he feels like he hasn’t even had time to process that his father is dead. He doesn’t get to see his grieving mother as often as he’d like, or check on his siblings in the way he would like. If it wasn’t for the gold band on his left ring finger or the picture from their wedding on his desk to remind him he is married he isn’t even sure that would still register with him.

Margaery is more understanding than usual. Something he is thankful for, yet, suspicious of. Usually she makes some kind of comment that he needs to spend more time with her and less on his work. Most often it is with her rubbing his shoulders and whispering into his ear so he thinks of something else and not the bloody idiot on the other side of the phone.

People he hires really should be able to do their jobs.

He’s been in his office since six in the morning in order to not spend all of his Saturday there. Tomorrow they are expected to be at both her grandmother’s house and his mother’s house, making it a day of nothing but social mingling. He’s not interested but he skipped dinner with his mother and siblings the week before. To do it two weeks in a row will only get him yelled at. Doesn’t matter how old he is being yelled at by his mother is something he loathes.

Wanting to see Margaery doesn’t seem like an excuse that will work and certainly not with his mother who can be lukewarm to her, at best.

It is not until well after ten that he hangs up the phone, slamming it down on the desk, letting out a heavy sigh. The very big fuck up he’s been trying to fix all morning is not going anywhere. He needs a drink. A very big, strong drink. He runs his hands over his face and through his hair, leaning back in his chair, and throwing the pen at the wall out frustration. Nearly throws more things before he hears the voice of his wife.

“I could hear you from upstairs.” Margaery’s voice is soft as she stands in the room, leaning against the frame of the door, her hands clasped in front of her.

Robb looks over at her instantly and his mood immediately gets far better. She’s a sight for sore eyes and he’s really missed her. “I wasn’t _that_ loud.”

She gives him a pointed look as she walks over to him, leaning against the desk, running her fingers through his red curls. “You were.”

His hand rests on her hip, tugging her so she’s standing between his legs. “Bloody idiots.”

Margaery smiles, even if she looks like she wants to roll her eyes. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Okay.”

There’s a moment in which she is quiet, looking at him with a soft expression, the back of her hand running along his cheek. “I think we should have a baby.”

“Right now?”

“ _Soon_.”

Robb is surprised by her desire. Not _too_ surprised. They both have always wanted kids and they’ve been married long enough to actually enjoy one another without a baby. They’ve been busy, though. _He’s_ busy. Not that it matters when the idea becomes easily one of the best ones she has ever had. “Are you wearing anything under this dress?”

Margaery giggles, lifting the hem of her dress so she can comfortably straddle him. “You don’t want to talk about it?”

“You want a baby. I want a baby. We should make a baby.” It is that simple.

“I think this dress makes me look matronly.” She whispers, unbuttoning it down her torso, letting it fall open. “What do you think?”

In an instant he knows that she did not come to him because he was being loud. The plan existed right from the beginning. Not that he minds. Rather, the need to fuck her is instant, feeling the way he is suddenly filled with frustration of another kind. He undoes the rest of the buttons on her dress, pushing it off her shoulders, leaving her completely nude on top of him. Just the way he likes it. The arousal hits him what feels like all at once. The fire that courses through him shooting straight to his cock, hardening in his slacks. Anything he needed to get done no longer a priority. His fingers run lightly along her torso until it’s her breasts he reaches, thumbs brushing against her nipples, feeling them harden beneath his touch.

His eyes follow the lines of her body as he touches her, allowing the silence to fill the room. It’s her heavy breath that only makes him want her more, enhanced by the way in which she grinds her hips down against him, a devilish smirk across her lips.

He’s always been attracted to her, since the very first day he met her, many years ago. Now she is his wife and she wants to have their baby. He wants to fuck her until she’s filled with his come, it leaking out of her obscenely, until neither of them can possibly take anymore. He wants to knock her up and watch her swell with his child, making it so everyone knows she is his in more ways than just that pretty ring on her finger.

The most primal desire that shoots to his cock and makes him want to explode.

His mouth finds her breast, tongue swiping across her nipple, swirling and sucking, teeth gently grazing across her skin. His hand pinches at the other, Margaery pushing her chest towards him, pushing herself down on him, leaving behind a wet spot right on him to prove just how wet she is for him.

She lets out a soft moan, looking at him, eyes meeting his, as her teeth sink into the flesh of her bottom lip. “Is that all you have?”

It’s his turn to smirk, kissing at her chest, his hand moving to between her legs. Her cunt is wet, _dripping_ , coating his fingers with ease, even as he just teases her. He loves teasing her. “Have you been thinking about this?”

“Yes.” She breathes out as his fingers move against her soaked cunt, brushing against her clit that is desperate for attention. “I made sure I was wet for you.”

Robb’s cock gets harder in his pants, throbbing, an ache so real he can barely control himself to not fucking her right there on his desk until she’s screaming his name. “Tell me.”

“I thought about your cock, how big it is, how it pulses in my hand, my mouth, my cunt,” she begins, a hand reaching between them to palm him through the material of his pants, “and how you can’t resist when I beg you to fuck me. So wet thinking about you, working so hard, and letting you take your frustrations out on me, on this desk, until I can’t walk.”

He continues kissing along her chest, nipping at her skin, leaving little red marks as she speaks. His finger sliding into her, slick and easy, feeling her only getting wetter with each passing word, pulsing around him. “Did you touch yourself?”

“No.” she breathes heavier now, pushing herself against his finger, desperate for something more than the barely there touch. “I wanted to save it, for you.”

“Good.” He whispers as he gives her another finger, slowly working them within her, his thumb brushing against her clit. For a moment he just watches her, the way her chest is heavier, breath by breath, trying so hard to control herself. He pulls himself free from his pants, moving her hand back to his hardened cock, letting her stroke him.

“You’re such a good girl.” He whispers, brushing his lips against the line of her jaw. “Aren’t you?”

She lets out a moan, so wet she’s nearly dripping down her thighs. “Please.” She whispers, the look of innocent upon her face, but nowhere else. “Let me make you a _daddy_.”

It really is shameful how much he likes that and he really hates that she knows that. That look of innocence upon her face means absolutely nothing. His cock twitches in her hand, desperate to feel her, be inside of her, reacting to the one little word that makes him think he’s going to be sent right down to the Seven Hells at any bloody moment. He grazes his fingers up her chest, not say anything, rather just watching her, not for a moment looking anywhere but her. “Is that what you want, Margaery?” He whispers ever so softly, a touch more serious than anything. “Did you spend all morning get your pretty little cunt all wet so you could come in here and make me a daddy?”

“Yes.” Margaery nods as she guides his cock, hovering above him, not giving either of them what they need yet. “I was laying up there because my husband thought work was more important. I kept thinking about how good it feels when his cock is filling me up, the way his come feels inside of me, and I couldn’t help myself. I started touching myself, spreading my legs, playing with my clit. I was hoping you’d find me, spread for you, see how wet I get thinking about you. I need to come, daddy.”

“Did you come? When you were up there?”

“No.” She shakes her head, leaning her forehead against him, finally allowing herself to sink down on him with a long moan. “I knew my _daddy_ would be mad. I can’t have him mad.”

“Fuck.” He groans, hand on her hip guiding her down, holding onto her so she can only move so much. He has half a mind to fuck her on his desk but he’ll allow for her to have this for the moment. “You’re right. He would be. Touching yourself while he’s busy. Have you done that before?”

Margaery moves slowly, trying her best, his strength out matching hers as he keeps her there. A whine comes from her lips, a pout forming. “I would never.”

“Never?” He questions, eyebrow raising at her. “You just did. Don’t lie to me.”

“Or you’ll punish me.”

“That’s right.” His grip lightens on her, guiding her up and down, letting her ride him, slowly, just enough for the moment. “I’ll punish you.” Not that it’s much of a threat, not when they both enjoy it so much.

She puts her hands on his shoulders as she rides him, rolling her hips, pushing her tits his in face, taking what she needs from him. She’s quiet as she lets the pleasure take over, her cunt squeezing around him, tits moving with her body, the loud sound of their bodies filling the silence of the room.

Leaning down he takes a nipple in his mouth, tugging at it, looking at up at her. His hand smacks against her ass, enjoying the little yelp that comes from her. She’s breathtaking around him like that and he wants nothing more than to have her scream his name, so loud the neighbors could hear, letting everyone know that she is.

“Stop.” A command that comes in an instant, pulling back from her, eyes dark with lust as he looks at his wife.

Margaery does as she is told, barely keeping her breath steady, and definitely being unable to hide how displeased she is with him. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Off.”

Margaery climbs off of him, leaning back against the desk, keeping her legs open a touch wide, giving him a view.

“I think you want to be punished.” Robb says as he stands, pushing her against the desk, until her back meets the mess of papers. He allows his pants to fall, slipping out of them, pulling off his shirt so he is as naked as she is. “We can’t have that.” He spreads her legs apart until he’s lining himself back up with her cunt, tugging her to the very edge of the desk. Without so much as another word he thrusts back inside of her. “You’re supposed to be my good girl.”

“I am, daddy. I _swear_.” She murmurs, her nails running along his chest, desperate to be closer to him.

Gently, his hand moves around her throat as he leans over, not feeling any mercy as he thrusts inside of her. Again and again. Barely able to catch his own breath. “Promise, daddy.”

“I promise.” Her voice soft from the pressure of his hand around her throat. “I’m a good girl. I won’t touch myself.”

“Good.” He gives a gentle squeeze, feeling the authority he has over her rush to his cock, throbbing with ache inside of her, desperate to move from the pause he’s taken, drawing it out, for her. “I want to fill you with my come until you’re pregnant and I can’t do that unless you’re good. I need you dripping, until you’re swelling, and even then I still want to fuck you. Is that what you want?”

She squeezes around him, getting wetter with every word. “God, Robb. Fuck.”

“That’s not an answer now, is it?” He smirks, kissing at her lips, taking her lip between his teeth, biting, tugging, pulling out, teasing her with the tip of his cock. “Is that what you want, baby?”

“Yes, fuck me.” She demands, holding onto his arms, looking up at him with a plead written across her face. “Fill me with your come. Please. I need you.”

He is satisfied with her pleas as he thrusts back inside of her. No mercy is given as he fucks all of his work frustrations out of her, letting his hand slip between them, finding her clit, giving it the proper attention as his cock drives within her. He can barely think properly with the way she feels around him, begging him closure with each squeeze.

“Robb, fuck, _daddy_.” She cries as the orgasm hits her all at once, arching towards him, pushing against his hand, his cock, and everything else.

He watches her with an intensity as she rides her orgasm out but it’s that one little word that does little to cause him to keep some control. He has none of that as he spills himself inside of her, not holding back, feeling the pleasure through every single inch of him. “ _Margaery_.”

Margaery lies back on the desk as Robb lets go of her, slipping from her cunt, falling back into his chair.

“Don’t move.” He whispers, something that should be more of a command, but ultimately, he’s too relaxed to do anything of the like.

“I don’t think that old wives tale works.”

There’s a shrug of his shoulders. “I just want to be a pervert.”

Margaery laughs and stays there for a few moments. Just long enough for him to get a view.

When she does finally move up she slides herself in his lap, hooking her arms around him. “Don’t work any more today.”

“I won’t.”

* * *

By the time Sunday rolls around Robb actually feels like something akin to a functional human being. Work and the death of his father had taken so much time, but the day of lying around the house and fucking his wife whenever they felt like it does wonders for his mood.

He doesn’t actually mind driving up to the Tyrell estate, for once. At the very least he doesn’t complain about it. It’s never his favorite place, for her parents unsettle him more than he is willing to admit.

If nothing else the house is quite large and is easy to get lost in. Most of the time on purpose in order to avoid her father who seems to want to chat at the most inopportune times about things Robb has no interest in discussing with his father in law. He wishes he can say he likes the man. Much like his father, he doesn't.

They are instantly guided to the formal dining room where Olenna, Mace, and Alerie sit in a silence that could kill anyone. He notices how her brothers are not there and makes a questioning look to Margaery.

She only shrugs her shoulders in response before going over to her parents and greeting them.

Robb greets them all. A handshake for Mace and a kiss on the cheek for both Alerie and Olenna, doing his best to give a smile before he takes a seat across from her parents, furthest down from her grandmother.

“We haven’t seen you recently.” Olenna states in a casual manner that is not quite casual.

“Sorry.” He’s a bit sheepish as the Tyrell matriarch stares him down. “Been a difficult few months.”

“Grandmother,” Margaery softly chastises, “we’re here now.”

“Yes, yes. Under duress, it seems.” Her hand clasp in front of her as she looks them both down now. “Was beginning to think I needed to die in order to get my only granddaughter and favorite grandson in law to visit.” She ends her words with a smile.

A smile that immediately lifts most of the tension out of Robb. He offers her a smile and thanks the Gods that he is actually on relatively good terms with at least one of them. “We won’t miss another brunch, I promise.”

“Good.” She says as she is satisfied with the answer and takes a sip of her wine.

“How is business?” Mace asks, eager to change the subject.

“Good.” Robb asks as he turns to look at Mace, doing his best to seem like just being there doesn’t feel like someone is pulling out of all of his teeth.

“Really?” Mace straightens up slightly, grabbing his wine glass in his hand, keeping his focused lasered in on Robb.

There’s a trap waiting for him and he can sense it. He takes his own glass of wine and turns to his wife, who is only looking at him with the same uncertainty. “Yes.”

“Roose Bolton says otherwise.”

“Father.” Margaery scolds in an instant. “What is this about?

“It’s fine, love.” He says to Margaery as he only glares at Mace. The whole situation is causing tension to flood his shoulders as he wishes he could be anywhere else. Even the way Margaery puts her hand too high on his thigh does little to help matters. “Transitions are rarely smooth.”

“I just want to make certain my daughter is well cared for.” Mace has spewed that line before. It’s something of his favorite when it comes to casting judgement upon him, and all the Starks, in truth.

“Oh, pipe down.” Olenna interjects with a role of her eyes and glare at her son. “What do you know about running a company? You haven’t lifted a finger in your whole life.”

Margaery’s hand slips further up his thigh, causing him to look at her out of the corner of his eye, swallowing back anything he feels. He tunes out the bickering that occurs between Mace and Olenna, fueled with insults, as Margaery is dangerously close to his cock. This is not the table to do such things at. Not when her parents do not care for him and when her grandmother is the sharpest person he’s ever met in his life. It doesn’t stop her from extending her fingers to brush against him, igniting a response, clearly not worn out. He should focus on the arguing going on before him but he is as quiet as Margaery’s mother seems to be most of the time. Robb grabs his fork and pokes at a piece of food on his too expensive plate and shoves it in his mouth just so he has something to focus on. He thinks of everyone at the table, his mother, his father, his siblings, anyone in order to keep himself under control. Not that it is helping when she’s only applying more pressure to him.

Clearly their day of activities yesterday did nothing to quench the thirst in him.

“Why were you talking to Roose Bolton?” The words come spilling from his mouth without really thinking. He’s blunt in nature but does his best to curb that around most people. Only Margaery is rubbing her hand against him, making it increasingly difficult for him to think.

“What?” Mace questions as he is caught off guard.

“Roose,” he swallows to ignore Margaery’s touch, “ _Bolton_. Why are you talking to him?”

“We’re friends.”

Robb narrows his gaze, stabbing at his plate. He needs whatever distraction he can get from both Mace and Margaery. “Since when?”

“ _Robb_.” He stiffens and sits up, leaning forward. “This is my house.”

“ _Since when?_ ” There is more force in his tone, biting back any moan threatening to burst from him.

Mace doesn’t answer.

Robb stands, immediately, annoyed. He manages to adjust his slacks so he doesn’t look like the half hard mess he is. As it turns out bickering with his wife’s father doesn’t exactly allow for him to get lost in desires of the flesh. He notices the way Margaery stands with him and grabs his hand. “We’re leaving.”

He walks over to Olenna and places a kiss on her cheek. “I’m sorry we’ll make it up to you.” A promise he will not break.

“I’m sorry, grandmother.” Margaery echoes his statement and remains silent on matters concerning her father.

“Go on.” Olenna tells them. “I understand.”

It doesn’t make Robb feel any less bad for leaving the brunch that her grandmother desires with them. He doesn’t think throttling her father in the middle of a house so elegant that even the scuff of his shoe feels as if he is damaging it forever.

He doesn’t lead her to the front door but rather down on the halls that leads to the library he’s never seen anyone actually use. “Your father is up to no good.” He tells her, looking around just for good measure, before pushing her against the wall. “And neither are you.”

“I’m being good.” A promise that is definitely a lie as she smirks.

“No.” He gives a shake of his head, slipping his hand up her dress. “You’re not wearing anything. I can feel your bare cunt.”

“I want to please you…” She leans into him. “ _Daddy_.”

He knows it’s fucked up the way it continues to cause his cock to spring up. She’s the only person that’s ever used it with him and that only adds to the way it drives arousal through him. It doesn’t stop him from reacting to it, though. Not as he slips his fingers inside of her, his palm brushing against her clit, trying to keep it like he isn’t fingering his wife in her childhood home where just about anyone could walk by.

The servants have probably seen some shit with Loras and Renly anyway.

For what’s that worth.

“Robb.” She moans into his ear, rocking her hips down on his fingers, gripping onto him so hard her knuckles turn white.

“Sorry, love.” He murmurs against her mouth, pulling his hand back from her, giving her just enough to want more.

Margaery hits her head against the wall as she fixes her dress, frustration all over her face. “Not fair.”

Robb gives her a quick kiss as he grabs her hand and actually leads her to the front door so they can get out of there before they get stuck there for some reason or another. As they’re putting on their coats the door opens and they see Renly and Loras walking through, smiling and laughing as they are hand in hand.

“Is it over already?” Loras asks as he takes notice of them putting their coats on.

“No,” Robb answers, “we’re leaving.”

“Uh, oh.” Renly says as he shares a look with Loras.

“What do you know about Mace’s business practices?” Robb does his best to broach the topic in a way that doesn’t seem obvious, but he is a Stark. Subtle isn’t exactly in their nature.

“Nothing.” Loras shrugs it off. “That’s Willas’ area.”

“Hmm.” Robb nods and decides not to push it.

“Robb,” Margaery finds herself at his side, grabbing onto his arm, “what are you thinking?”

“Nothing.” He dismisses.

“You owe us dinner.” Loras tells them.

“This week.” Margaery kisses her brother on the cheek. “I’ll call you.”

“There’s something going on.” Renly says with a whisper that isn’t exactly all that quiet.

Robb pretends not to hear it and Margaery does the same before the door is shut behind him.

He walks off to the car and doesn’t say anything as he drives to his mother’s house. It’s a long drive, far closer to where they actually live, and his mind is just reeling. The only way the entire situation could get weirder was if a Lannister joined forces, but he isn’t about to give them any ideas. Or speak any ideas into the universe in general.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Margaery questions as they walk up to the front door as the snow begins to fall on top of them.

“You were quiet.” He says as he opens the front door, offering her to walk through the door.

Margaery walks through the door and pulls off her coat as she places it on one of the hooks by the door. “You have your way of doing things and I have mine.”

“What’s in that pretty little head of yours?”

“The brains of us, darling.” She says it in a light manner, kissing his cheek, even if the words are one hundred percent the truth. “I’m going to go find Sansa.”

“Okay.” He gives her a quick kiss as he makes his way to his father’s study.

The door is unlocked and it pains him. It was nearly always locked from the mess of kids running around and bringing their friends. Robb and Theon used to joke about the secrets in there and the porn they were sure was hidden away. Of course, his father is far more clean than Robb could ever dream to be.

It isn’t used any longer as he sees the untouched desk. Everything is as it was the last time he was in there, which was the day of the funeral. Something that seems like a lifetime ago.

He doesn’t feel good as he stands there and looks at the pristine desk. Some dates are written on the calendar...ones that have passed them by. He took those meetings. Some of them good. Others a colossal disaster. Not a job he is much prepared for, but that was never quite the Stark way.

Jump first. Think later.

He lets the nostalgia go as he looks through the papers in the desk, unsure of what he is looking for. Anything on Roose Bolton. Anything that can help make sense of why the man he’s never liked or trusted would bother talking with his wife’s father. It doesn’t help his father dies under something of mysterious circumstances, ones that no one really wants to talk about.

A stack of papers is left on the desk so he can take them home before he leaves. Nothing that helps any but maybe if he stares at them for long enough he’ll find an answer.

One can wish.

Robb is the last one to take a seat at the table after giving his mother a hug and kiss on her cheek. He sits down next to his wife who gives him a questioning look.

If nothing else at least the dinner is more lively with all of the people around the table. Val sits next to Margaery with Jon at her side. Robb sits closest to his mother with Sansa across from him, Bran, Rickon, and Arya following suit. They’re all talk among themselves and Arya is two seconds from annoying Sansa where a fight breaks out.

“You missed last week.” Catelyn tells them, tone gentle, arranging the napkin on her lap.

“Sorry.” Instead of sheepish he is now sincere. Always been something of a mama’s boy. “Work is…” He shrugs, not sure how to explain it or if she even wants to hear.

Catelyn nods and smiles at Margaery. “And how is work going for you, Margaery?”

“Good.” She smiles. “The magazine is a good fit.”

“Good.”

Robb watches his mother carefully. She is still heavy with grief, most noticeable in her quiet demeanor and the black she wears. Mostly the chatter is among the kids. He thinks she just wants them there and makes a mental note to being there more. Maybe it will keep his head on straight.

Or maybe it’s just guilt.

When dinner finishes he finds himself in his childhood bedroom, standing in the doorway, looking into the empty room.

“How much trouble were you?” Margaery asks as she wraps her arms around him, placing her child on his shoulder, nuzzling against him.

“Hmm.” He smiles though and places his hands over her own. “Not too much.”

“Liar.”

“It was Theon’s fault.” Partially true, mostly not. He’s hardly innocent.

“Mm, just Theon.” She kisses his neck. “We never finished from earlier.”

“Oh?” He whispers as he turns to look at her. “Fantasy of fucking me in here?”

“I’d fuck you anywhere.” A soft purr of her voice as her hand works under his shirt, lightly grazing her nails across his skin. “Right now.”

“Right now?”

Margaery doesn’t reply as she pushes him into the room, only kicking the door shut enough to not be bothered.

Robb winds end up on the edge of his bed, watching Margaery, before she moves to straddle him. Her dress falls around them as she grinds herself down on him, earning an all too easy erection in the confines of his pants.

“You left me wanting, _daddy_.” She unbuttons his shirt as she runs her hands down his skin. “I really need to come. Can you let me come? I’ve been so good.”

He undoes his slacks and pulls his wanting cock free, stroking himself until he’s hard, biting down on his lip to keep quiet. “Do you deserve to come?”

“Yes.” Margaery nods with enthusiasm those doe eyes staring at him with a plead. “I promise I do.”

“Ride me.” He commands her.

Margaery doesn’t say anything as she sinks down on him, hands flat on his chest, riding him, squeezing at his cock, desperate for pleasure.

He only lets her remain like that for a few moments before he flips her over, holding her down, thrusting into her. “Do you like that, Margaery?” He whispers, brushing his lips against her. “Do you like the way daddy’s cock feels in this pretty little cunt? You’re so tight and wet for me. Desperate to be filled with my cum, aren’t you? Such a needy little cunt. Desperate.”

“Yes.” She gasps as she wraps her arms around her. “Yes, daddy. I need your cock so bad.”

“Tell me.”

“Your cock,” she gasps, holding onto him, biting down on her lip, keeping from crying out too loudly, “it’s so good. The way it fills me, so big, stretching me. Ruin me, daddy.”

Satisfied, he drives into her until her mouth opens, Robb covering her mouth to keep her from screaming and being heard through the house. That only seems to make her orgasm more powerful as she shakes beneath him. He comes, filling her, a shake of his own as he cries out her name in the crook of her neck.

“Thank you, daddy.”

Robb kisses her, soft, slow, a shift from his words. “I love you.” He whispers, letting his lips linger., not willing to let go even if he knows the two of them being gone for too long will be suspicious. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“I love you, too.”

He stands and tucks himself back into his pants as he walks out of the bedroom, trying to fix himself up, only to run into Jon right there. There’s no mistake what he’s been up to as he does his best to tuck his shirt back into his pants so he doesn’t look a disheveled mess.

“Oh.” He says, a bit startled. “Uh, hi.”

“Subtle.”

Robb smiles before shrugging. “Long day.”

“Yeah, I heard. Too much.” Jon makes a face and shakes his head, a soft shudder finding him

“Oh. Listen -” Of course, Robb doesn’t know what to say to that. To what he might have heard. Doesn’t have the decency to blush either.

“We’re never talking about this again.” Jon dismisses all too eager to let the conversation go.

“Val not into that?”

“What?” Jon’s eyes widen a bit.

“Strikes me as the kinky type.” He shrugs but really he’s trying to mess with Jon a bit. It’s always a touch too fun.

“Are you thinking about my girlfriend?”

“No. I got a hot wife.” He makes a gesture to the door. “ _Really_ hot wife.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Wait.” Robb calls out for him as he catches up with his brother who is nearly at the edge of the stairs.

Jon groans but does turn around.

“What do you know about Bolton?” He doesn’t bother trying to seem casual. Not with Jon.

“Ramsay?” He questions, a slight turn of his head.

“Roose.”

Jon ponders in silence for a moment. “Don’t trust him.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr.](http://laurelsalexis.tumblr.com/)


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